


The Moon and its Eclipse

by dreamthroughthemonotony



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spiderman: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, But Spiderdaughter I guess?, Female Peter Parker, Female! Peter Parker - Freeform, Foster AU, Gen, Genderbent Peter Parker - Freeform, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, IronDad and SpiderSon, Not Canon Compliant, Pia Parker, Protective Tony Stark, This...is not cannon, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, tony stark adopts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-06-30 08:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamthroughthemonotony/pseuds/dreamthroughthemonotony
Summary: Pia Parker and Harley Keener actually weren't related at all. The two looked nothing alike, and they certainly had very different approaches to life. However, the two had lived through the same tragedies and heartbreaks, and were siblings in all but blood.*This story was inspired by agib's foster AU prompts!*





	1. Bright Homes and Tired Souls

**Author's Note:**

> Well here it is: the first chapter of my first fanfic! It is pretty short, but the chapters should get longer after this one.

_Have you ever seen a total eclipse? Ever watched the moon slip over the sun and observed the encroaching darkness? Have you seen all the light flee from your world? Have you ever felt that cold gripping sensation of being completely and utterly alone? You know, of course, that the dark is temporary. That light and bright will reign once more. You know that others still see the sun, still feel its warmth. But still, here you are, in the darkness. You feel insignificant, don’t you? Such a small thing, spinning round and round in an uncaring world utterly devoid of light. Someday, sometime, the sun will shine once more. But in that moment, in that total absence of light, you feel empty and all alone. Maybe the sun won’t shine again. Maybe it’s all over._

_But then the sun reappears and the darkness recedes. But you aren’t quite the same, are you? You know how fragile you are, how quickly the light can fade and the darkness can win. You return to your life, a little bit changed. You laugh and talk and live once more, but you will never forget how it feels to touch the dark. You have seen a total eclipse, haven’t you?_

The comforting hum of a busy home echoed through the halls. The ringing laughter of children played a starring role in the cacophony, accompanied by chatter and the occasional squeal of delight. Pots and pans clattered loudly as a caretaker prepared a warm meal. Worn but well-loved toys lay scattered on the tan living room carpet, evidence of the vibrant youth that permeated every aspect of the home. And a home it was; over the years, the worn house that held A Leg Up Foster Home had been a source of safety and comfort for young orphans and victims of terrible happenstance.

But if one was to leave the warm firelit living room and climb the dark wooden staircase up and up and up to the fifth floor, they would feel the warmth slip away as they ascended. It gets rather cold in New York city in autumn, after all. Once they reached the fifth floor, they would be met with a small hallway and three closed doors. Small chalk signs on each door were labeled according to the name of their inhabitant. The first door belonged to "Megan". One shouldn't bother going in there; Megan was always volunteering at a nearby library until late at night. The second door was labeled "Pia". No one really knew where Pia went all the time. If someone had a desperate reason to find her, they would ask the resident of the next room over: Harley.

Harley was...an interesting sort. Most would describe him as quiet. Some would even go as far to call him surly. The only kid-no, person- he positively interacted with was Pia. Otherwise, all you heard from him were monosyllabic answers to questions, paired with the occasional "Can I leave now?" Because of that attitude, the person who climbed to the fifth floor would venture no further. Perhaps they would glance at the window in the hallway, out to the street that lay below. Then they would saunter back down to the warmth and cheer of the first floor, forgetting what lay behind that door.

On one particular October evening, what was beyond that third bedroom door on the fifth floor was one exhausted Harley Keener. The quickly fading fall sunlight caught on scaffolding outside his bedroom window and cast eerie shadows on his slumped figure. The teenager was motionless, leaning against the wall beside his bed with a neutral expression as he watched the shadows of night overtake the room. Closed luggage lay carelessly discarded on the floor, Harley's shoes thrown haphazardly by the door.

 _I wonder where I put my coat_. The teen vaguely wondered. _Did I leave it at that house, or is it in the suitcase?_

He eyed the case, but made no motion to move and check. _Eh, who cares. I can just wear sweatshirts anyway._ He allowed his eyes to drift closed. Maybe with a little sleep at least some of his dark circles would disappear.

Suddenly, a sharp _ping!_ sounded, jolting the teenager out of his dormant state. Blearily, he pulled a cracked phone out of his pocket and pressed the home button. The glaring artificial blue glow temporarily blinding him, he unseeingly clicked on where he thought his messages were. Squinting, he tried to make out what was on his screen.

_Looks..kinda like a photo?_

Blinking rapidly to refocus his eyes, Harley soon found himself staring at a photo of a cute puppy, taken from an impossibly high angle. It was captioned “The goodest doge of them all" with exactly eighteen smiley faces. The teen allowed a slight smirk to lift the corner of his mouth as he typed out a response.

“Don’t bring it home. You’re terrible at hiding them.”

A series of creatively rude emojis were all that he received in response. He snorted. It wasn’t a laugh, not yet, but it was getting closer.

*** 

“Uh. Yeah, no.”

“Tony..” Pepper’s voice was starting to lose its calm undertones.

 _I’m verging on ‘sleeping on the couch’ territory, aren’t I?_ Tony mused as he continued to pace. “Look, I just don’t have time. I’m working on-”

“On what, Tony? Another suit? This has to be at least Mark 100 by now and it’s ridi-”

“It's NANOTECH! I could be pioneering an unknown science field right now Pepper! This could be huge!”

Pepper Potts pulled off her pristine white stilettos with the air of a fed up mother trying to fight back her highly tempting urges to enroll her son in military school. Leveling her fiancé with a positively murderous glare, she turned and stalked towards their bedroom. “What I want you to _pioneer_ is the unknown field of your untouched SI paperwork.”

Tony let out a slight shocked gasp, preparing to defend himself from that frankly outrageous statement. Before he could even utter a word, however, he was cut off by the sound of the bedroom door slamming.

“It’s not untouched.” He grumbled petulantly, collapsing on the couch and staring passively at the gleaming buildings of Manhattan that lay sprawled outside the windows.

“ _I’d beg_ _to differ, boss._ " FRIDAY interjected. " _The last project for Stark Industries that you fully completed was the plans for the new R &D center,_” she paused for dramatic effect “ _which was built eight months ago.”_

Tony considered that fact for a moment before kicking his heels on the couch's baseboard and shooting to his feet once more. Raising an accusing finger at the ceiling, he vowed to win one argument that night. If it had to be against his own AI, then so be it. “Ah ah ah. I clearly remember finishing the work for that grant for that middle school located in..in..”

“Queens” FRIDAY helpfully supplied, sounding far too smug “and according to my calculations, Miss Potts completed approximately 72.3 percent of the work.”

Tony sniffed indignantly. “Rounds down to 72 percent, so I still did 28 percent of the work. And we haven’t even mentioned the halfway completed and _slightly_ subpar work I’ve been doing all my life. Consider the…” Tony’s voice trailed off as a flash of bright red and blue caught his eye in the fading glow of the sun. 

_Who would be up this high? The list of people who dress in that violent shade of blue and red is pretty short. Steve wouldn't dare show his face around here...what's that one vigilante from Queens called? Beetlegirl? No, definitely not. Lavaboy? No...just no. Arachnid...spider-yes!"_

“Consider what, boss?” FRIDAY queried, still stuck on their previous conversation and not following Tony's immediate train of thought.

He shook his head, waving off her question. “Out there, northeast side of the tower- is that the Spider-creature-thing?”

“I don’t have any records of anyone by that name boss, but I do identify the person currently swinging by your tower as the masked vigilante who operates under the alias of Spiderwoman.”

“Why’s she in Manhattan at”- Tony swiveled to look at a clock- “8 at night? Doesn't she operate in Queens?”

“I doubt she has a bedtime sir, and due to her vigilante status, I highly doubt that her presence here is remotely untoward. However, I can have a suit ready in a minute if you’d like to find out what her intentions are.”

Tony paused, considering his options. Finally, he came to a decision and sighed, running a hand over his face. “Better not, FRI.” He spun on his heel and headed towards the elevator. “Pull up the most immediately concerning SI projects at my desk.” He ordered. Even doing hours of mind-numbing legal work was preferable to facing Pepper’s wrath when she discovered that he’d done absolutely nothing that she considered to be productive.


	2. Raindrops and Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes! This ended up being updated about two weeks after the first post. Sorry about that dears :/ I'm pretty busy for the next month, but after that I'll try to stick to a weekly updating schedule.
> 
> ***THIS CHAPTER, IN ACCORDANCE WITH AGIB'S FOSTER AU PROMPTS, DOES MENTION PHYSICAL ABUSE! IF THIS CAN AFFECT YOU NEGATIVELY, PLEASE DON'T READ IT!***
> 
> And without further ado: Chapter 2!
> 
> ...that rhymes.

“1899.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s 1897. Shouldn’t you know this? Physics is your best class!”

“Yeah but this is history, not science! Who cares when the electron was discovered, it’s not gonna help me design a..a submarine!”

“That’s the thing, Harls. To get to somewhere where you can design a submarine, you’ve gotta get good grades by learning the dumb facts… or something.”

Harley leveled Pia with a scathing glance. “When did you become a guidance counselor? Soon you’ll be telling me I have no shot at MIT ‘cause of my ‘record of delinquency’.”

Pia cleared her throat, a smile starting to creep across her face. “Mr. Keener. I’m so deeply sorry to be the one to inform you of this oh so tragic fact but-ow!” Her monologue, complete with a fake deep voice, was cut short by Harley smacking her on the back of her head. It hadn’t really hurt, obviously. Besides the fact that Harley was too protective over her to actually hurt her, there was no physical way for him to inflict any damage due to Pia's gargantuan down coat.

Along with many other things, Pia’s spider-enhanced DNA made her rather susceptible to cold, so Harley had taken it upon himself to purchase a coat for her at a nearby thrift store. The sizing definitely wasn’t right, and frankly, it was the most hideous thing that Pia had ever laid her eyes on. But when Harley had pointed out that Pia had already almost gone into hibernation from the cold twice in the past month, she gave in and donned the monstrosity. She drew the line at wearing it on patrol, however.

“Spiderwoman doesn’t wear a neon purple parka with lime polka dots. It’s off brand.”

“Hypothermia or being off brand? Your choice.”

She’d chosen hypothermia, of course. Looking like Barney had possesed her while saving civilians wasn’t exactly her style. So now the only time you would see Pia May Parker wearing her horrific down jacket was on her way to and from school. Whenever she wore this jacket, she was accompanied by a scowling teenage boy in a ratty sweatshirt, practically daring anyone to comment on the girl’s odd attire. But realistically they were in Queens. No one was going to look twice at Pia; everyone had seen a lot weirder.

The odd duo paused beside a dingy corner store advertising a BOGO sale on hot dogs.

“What do they need again?”

“Graham crackers and apple juice. It’s not this difficult.”

“Why don’t you go in then?” Harley challenged.

“Because it’s just too cold to take my hands out of the pockets, you know?” Pia tilted her head slightly, the very picture of innocence. “Spider traits and all that. Might just instantly go into hibernation if I expose my hands to the cold, even inside the building. I mean, the door’s always opening and letting in all that air.”

Harley blinked at her for a moment, his gaze incredulous. “Full of-.” The end of his sentence was muffled, as he was spinning around and shoving into the shop, but Pia could fill in the blanks.

Giggling, she turned away from the door and leaned back against the brick wall of the shop, dropping her backpack onto her feet. The street in front of her was packed with Friday rush hour traffic: tired businessmen and annoyed taxi drivers all mixed together in an interlocked system of individuals with separate but almost identical goals; to move on to the next thing. A biting wind whistled down the street, simultaneously making Pia shiver and bringing mouthwatering scents from a nearby bakery to her. Pia’s stomach rumbled. Dinner wouldn’t be enough tonight, especially if she went on patrol.

 _Miss Marian wouldn’t miss a few dollars of her change, would she?_ Pia found herself inadvertently wondering. _At least a cinnamon bun would be warm_ \- She started, shaking her head to dispel the unwanted thoughts. She wasn’t going to steal from her caretaker! It wasn’t as though the foster home starved her: far from it, in fact. They always tried to make sure that every child was well fed and comfortable. The problem was that they didn’t exactly make accommodations for unknown enhanced teenagers.

Pia couldn’t very well walk up to Miss Marian and say “Hey, so I know that you’ve budgeted everything the state gives you this month, but I need more food because I have superpowers.” Hence the thrifted coat and the ever present gnawing ache of hunger in Pia’s stomach. Harley worked at a nearby fast food restaurant to buy extra food and clothing for her, but Pia always insisted that he save most of the money for college. They couldn’t just rely on scholarships for college money after all.

The jarring sound of an enraged driver practically laying on his horn startled Pia out of her musings. She blinked, giving the driver a disgruntled look and turning her mind towards planning her patrol route for that night. She was five minutes into deciding whether she should patrol on Victoria street or North Cherry street when Harley emerged from the doorway of the convenience store with a paper bag. He immediately started off down the street again with a dark scowl etched onto his face. Muttering curses under her breath, Pia grabbed her backpack with fumbling hands and jogged after Harley.

_Something must have happened in the store. He’s in another one of those moods._

After five minutes of dead silent walking, Pia tried to start another conversation. “Hey remember when I went to Manhattan back in October?”

A slight grunt from Harley.

“And how I was taking photos from above Central Park?”

An odd noise reminiscent of the sound a dog makes right before it throws up.

“Well on the way back I took this really cool photo of me in the suit swinging by the Avengers’ Tower and guess what?”

This time Harley’s weird noise went up at the end in an inquisitive manner, so Pia could safely assume he meant ‘What? I have no idea Pia, I’m on the edge of my seat! Please tell me everything!’

“The photo got nine hundred likes!!”

Silence. She sighed, biting her lip. “Sorry. I guess it was pretty cool to me.”

Suddenly a thought occurred to her. What happened at the foster home that Harley came back from when she was in Manhattan? Harley had neglected to broach the subject for the past few weeks, so Pia could infer that his foster parents hadn’t been the best. But before she could stop herself from asking the probably upsetting question, she blurted out: “What happened at the house you were at a few weeks ago?”

Her sibling’s shoulders stiffened slightly, his jaw tightening. He didn’t answer.

“Was it another bad one?” Pia questioned quietly, ashamed that she had neglected to ask this sooner. _What kind of sister am I?_ She wondered. _Forget to ask about why he was back from a foster home and how it was for two whole weeks? Great idea. Why don’t I just ignore him for a few months while I’m at it?_

“Drop it already Pia. ‘S none of your business.” Harley’s voice was sharp. He sped up his pace, forcing Pia to jog slightly to keep up. That was the last of their conversation for that walk.

That night Pia donned her Spiderwoman suit and crawled out her window as quietly as she could, using her Spidey sense to determine whether or not Harley was near his window. It was almost eleven o’clock at night and while Harley’s light was already out in his room she didn’t want to risk a lecture about how it was ‘dangerous to be out this late’. Not to mention the storm that was brewing overhead- he’d definitely freak out about that. Pia would be back in a few hours anyway. Harley would be none the wiser, and she could sleep well knowing that Queens was just a bit safer.

She scampered down the rusty fire escape, dodging the creaky steps. Once she dropped down undetected in the alleyway, Pia let out a long breath. _Made it._ Making her way out of the alleyway, she shot a web up at the tall lawyer’s office across the street and took to the air. Almost immediately, she knew something was wrong. An odd prickly sensation crawled up the back of her neck as the bells in a nearby church tolled eleven times. Normally the exertion of web-slinging combined with the crisp night air would have made her whoop with joy, but something was off tonight.

Maybe it was the storm. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t slept for more than three hours per night recently, which wasn't ideal for swinging at high altitudes. Or maybe something was wrong in her city. Because instead of sounding cheery and sweet, the clanging of the church bells sounded like a warning. And the cold night air held a numbing, dangerous energy that made the hairs on the back of Pia’s neck stand straight up. A low rumble of thunder growled, the sound amplified by the maze of concrete that made up New York City.

After a few minutes of paranoid swinging, Pia landed on the roof of a bagel shop, not trusting herself to stay in the air when something was clearly not right at all. Crouching on the corner of the building’s brick facade, Pia scanned the street below her for anything that seemed dangerous. But there was nothing down there. There was only her brain screaming unintelligibly about something bad that was going to happen. Pia shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind picked up speed. She flinched as thunder sounded once more; she didn’t have good memories associated with storms and being out in this one caused old and forgotten things to be brought to the forefront of her brain.

An icy drop of rain dripped down her cheek, signaling to Pia that she needed to keep moving if she wanted to complete her nightly patrol before she got soaked. She let out a deep, shuddering breath before firing a web at a new building and leaping off her current roof. Pia twisted around in midair, checking to see if anything was behind her. Nothing. She was just being paranoid, as usual. Everything was fine. She just had to get back to patrol and-

With a resounding _crack_ , a blinding streak of lightning slammed into the metal generator on the roof of the building that Pia had just jumped off. In that same heartbeat, Pia plummeted directly into her swirling memories.

_Familiar green walls. Those same linoleum tiles. Blood sluggishly dripping from Pia’s nose as she struggled to push herself off the floor. A choked whimper escaped her mouth as her scrabbling hands failed to lift her out of the shattered glass littered on the floor. She could still hear the thunder outside._

_“Get out.” His voice was low and clear despite his drunkenness._

_“Wh-what?” Her blood ran cold. She couldn’t- where would she go? Surely not her last foster home; it was so overcrowded._

_“I said GET OUT!” The last words were slurred and wild. Too dangerous. Leave. Leave! She had to leave! But getting up is difficult and-_

Why was she in her spider suit? Why was she swinging? Why was it so cold? She was moving wildly, frantically, in both her flashback and in real life. Warm tears were coursing down Pia’s face, a sharp contrast to the frigid raindrops beating down on her. Was she there or was she here?-

_He was lurching towards her and she was scrambling away, her hands stinging from the glass embedded in them. Her breath was coming sharp and fast, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she closed her hands around the doorknob, fumbling with the old rusty lock. It felt as though hours passed as her trembling hands struggled to twist the bolt and turn the knob. With a barely restrained shriek of terror, she finally wrenched the door open, throwing herself out onto the crumbling stoop of the townhouse. Her foot caught on the edge of a step and she was sent flying. She threw her hands out in front of her, catching herself on the rough sidewalk outside of the house. The door slammed behind her and lightning flashed. Pia allowed her head to drop._

She was flying, her webs not connected to anything. The previous veil of panic was receding, only to be replaced by new fear. “Oh no no no n-“ Arms still flailing wildly, Pia hit the concrete. Hard. A pained scream ripped from her throat upon the initial impact. Then the dull, pulsing pain slammed into her, overwhelming all other senses. Her nerves were going haywire: her ribs throbbing and stabbing and stinging all at the same time. She wanted to scream, call for help, _do something_ , but opening her mouth was a feat she couldn’t complete. Curling up seemed ideal as it would provide some protection from the pouring rain, but there was no way she could move that much. With pained whimpers, Pia struggled to pull her knees halfway up to her chest before eventually giving up with a choked sob. She allowed her eyes to close, not able to focus on anything but the debilitating pain. So there she lay, the fearless Spiderwoman, silent and still on a dark Queens sidewalk at midnight.

***

Hands in his pockets, Tony leaned against the workbench and watched the storm rage. From his angle at the top of Stark Tower, he was almost at eye level with the lightning. _Never as impressive as when Thor’s here._ He absently thought.

He was tired. Tired of what, he wasn’t sure. Tired of being the Avenger’s scapegoat? Maybe. Tired of pretending that their animosity towards him and eventual betrayal didn’t hurt? Quite possibly. Tired of feeling alone? Most certainly.

Somehow, Tony found himself returning to his workbench and opening the Avengers’ weapons file. It made no sense to work on the weapons, or even look at them. Those bridges were burned long ago. But still, Tony found himself staring at plans for the Widow bites, the arrows equipped with grappling hooks, the highly conductive armor for Thor… Holographic schematics rotated around him, acting as taunting reminders of what he could have had. Pained, he looked away.

Outside of the tower, a resounding crack of thunder sounded right before lightning flashed. Tony’s throat tightened and hand clenched into a fist. It had stormed the night he returned from Siberia.

_He had repurchased the Tower a mere week before that day, and it echoed in the way only an empty home could as he dropped against the kitchen island. The city was black outside his windows. Power outage. But not for him; the Tower was as bright as ever. For the first time, Tony Stark cursed his technology. Why couldn’t the Tower go dark too? Why couldn’t he sit in that empty, suffocating black? Why couldn’t he be ordinary for once? Outside lay a city of people in their own little lives, in their own separate worlds. They were huddled in darkened living rooms with family, eating foods that didn’t need heating. Maybe they were telling stories by flashlight. Their biggest concern might be finding more batteries. Maybe they would look up and see the brilliant Stark Tower, wonder how it could possibly be so bright. They might wish they could have some of that electricity so that they could cook a real meal or just not trip over furniture in the dark. But here the great Tony Stark was, sitting in his massive glass building. He was the only person with light for blocks around. And he was so, so lonely. To some, he had absolutely everything. But right then, the billionaire would give it all up: the money, the building, the fame, **the light** , if he could have just a taste of what the civilians of New York City had. A taste of the ordinary._

Something metal was flying towards his face. “What the-” Tony spluttered, jolting backwards and falling right off his chair with all the grace of a prima ballerina. Another barrage of objects were sent flying in Tony’s direction, this time accompanied with frantic beeping.

“DUM-” Tony ducked behind a table as a wrench was launched towards him. “DUM-E STOP!” He rocketed to his feet, pointing threateningly at the enraged bot. “Don’t make me donate you to a community college!” DUM-E sullenly shook his crane and then seemed to light up with a new idea. Slowly, as if his motions would go undetected if he didn’t move quickly, DUM-E reached for the closest throwable object: a discarded Iron Man boot. “Absolutely not!” Tony snapped his fingers and DUM-E guiltily jerked away from the metal contraption.

“What the hell was that?” Tony crossed his arms as the bot tried to avoid his gaze. Eventually, DUM-E just gave up and started to roll away. “Uh-uh! Wait just a second mister. Explain yourself!” Tony’s protests fell on deaf ears. The bot staunchly ignored him.

With a sigh, Tony ran a hand over his face and turned back towards his workbench. He froze. Pulling his hand away from his face, Tony examined his palm. Something...wet? He blinked, mind racing. A visual check out of the corner of his eye showed DUM-E steadfastly refusing to look at Tony. A smile grew on Tony’s face and he let out a wet laugh. Grabbing his welding mask, he called over his shoulder “This project’s gonna make some sparks. I could use a fire extinguisher, don’t you think?”

He immediately regretted his moment of softness when DUM-E, in his haste to bring the fire extinguisher to Tony, dropped it directly onto his foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and polite constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and, again, I promise to be on a better updating schedule soon.
> 
> My Tumblr is @dreamthroughthemonotony if you want to follow me there!


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